


Poor Management Decisions, Great Life Choices

by letterando



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Business, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Magic, Magic Revealed, Magical Accidents, Modern Royalty, Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-31 03:35:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12673590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letterando/pseuds/letterando
Summary: After a string of bankrupted businesses co-owned with Arthur, Merlin confronts his childhood friend/prince/occasional lover about it. Turns out, Arthur is only buying time to make Merlin understand that they are meant to be together after all, screw future heirs to the throne and Merlin's own obliviousness.





	Poor Management Decisions, Great Life Choices

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to the wonderful schweet-heart (/users/schweet_heart) for the swift and extensive beta reading. Thank you for not running away screaming at the sight of my awful punctuation.  
> Any remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> This fic was inspired by a Kink me! Prompt, the prompt is copy-pasted below:
> 
> Kink me! Merlin #37  
> http://kinkme-merlin.livejournal.com/36623.html?thread=41804047#t41804047  
> Arthur and Merlin go into business together (any kind of business: owning a store, running a company, selling homemade jewelry, whatever), but they bicker about everything and the business fails completely. Their relationship, on the other hand, is HEA. :) Help/interference from the rest of the Merlin crew would be fab but is not necessary. I just crave failure!fic and the banter/hijinks/angst that would ensue.
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy!

# ACT ONE – in the kitchen

 

“We’re not going to refuse Sailor’s offer.”

“On the contrary, Merlin, we are going to refuse Sailor’s offer.”

“No, no, no. Listen, repeat after me, all right? We are _not_ going to say no to Sailor’s offer to sell their products. We are going to accept, and gladly – in fact, we’d be honoured to sell their products in our shop.”

“All right, we are not going to say no.”

Merlin was stunned. If Arthur meant it, it would be the first major managerial decision that they had agreed on in a long year of business catastrophes. If Arthur agreed with him, Merlin still had a dog’s chance in hell of charming their business back to life. He would possibly need to stun a few sponsors’ representatives, at least momentarily, to fend them off long enough to get their shop back on its feet and avoid (another) public failure.

If they failed again, Morgana would be publicly smug and rub it in their faces for the rest of their lives, while Gwen would be privately smug and rub it in their faces for the rest of their lives, after a few pints.

But if Arthur saw reason this time…

“We are not going to refuse Sailor’s offer because I already did.”

Of all the bloody, thick-headed, arrogant princes!

“Sailor is a bag of dicks. We wouldn’t have liked to retail for them, Merlin.”

“Arthur…” he ground out, asking all the deities for the strength and patience not to turn Arthur into a frog. “Sailor is a great brand, their fountain pens are among the best in the world, the bottled inks too; it’s not easy to be able to retail for them, Arthur. Just because the Goulets didn’t make the cut– ”

“Which proves that Sailor is not that great after all–”

“–that doesn’t mean that we need to refuse on their behalf. It would mean business suicide, and we’re already on the brink of closing down. What we would like to do is not relevant at this point anymore!”

“Sure it is. When we declare bankruptcy, you just need to spell our investors and the bank representatives and have our debts cut in half. Easy-peasy, Merrrlin.”

At that point Merlin’s memory was a bit of a blur. He remembered being irritated; there may have been a broken chair or kitchen appliance, since they were talking in Arthur’s kitchen.

He remembered Arthur looking at him like he wanted to devour him, his gorgeous blue eyes unfocused, the tip of his tongue darting on his lip, as it usually did when Merlin forgot himself and caused bursts of accidental magic.

Then Arthur stepped towards him.

.

.

.

# ACT TWO – in the bedroom

 

“You are a menace,” murmured Merlin half-heartedly.

“Mmh,” Arthur muttered back, the sound causing the skin of Merlin’s nape to shiver. A passing thought reminded Merlin that they were sweaty and naked, and that they had forgotten to change the bed linens for the season. (Actually, Merlin had forgotten to nag Arthur into doing it, since Arthur surely remembered but chose to play dumb whenever he judged household chores beneath him. Contrary to what Merlin had expected, this didn’t happen all too often).

With even the latecomers dressing up their homes for Halloween, it was not acceptable to have light-weight summer bed linens. Arthur’s physical health was the stuff of legends. He withstood almost any weather without consequences. It was as Arthur’s own body was as stubborn as he was,  born to make Merlin’s life miserable with bullheadedness and horrible management skills.

“They asked us to retail for them because of me, Merlin,” 

“Arthur…” Merlin choked out, but the rest of the words got stuck in his throat. The post-bliss contentment faded away. Merlin didn’t feel sweaty and clammy anymore: he was cold and furious.

“The managers of some brands are such morons. They think we’re never going to find out that they’re only after the publicity that comes with my name. “Then we find out,well, you find out first because you’re lucky like that-“

“You mean I always notice the managers’ plots because I’m the one who actually revise our finances.”

“Then you would throw a righteous fit, and I wouldn’t get laid during said fit. Need I remind you how very long some of your sulks last?”

“I don’t sulk.”

“Uh-huh,” Arthur murmured, in the tone of a man who was not listening to a single word other than his own. “And if I don’t get laid I become miserable, and then everybody will be miserable with me, and we don’t want that, right, Merlin?”

Merlin sought Arthur’s arm with his palm. From his bicep, he followed Arthur’s muscles over his shoulders, pressing lightly on the center of his back, feeling Arthur’s sigh more than hearing it, knowing that Arthur was closing his eyes and letting his head loll back in relaxation. It was an instinctive reaction by now, like Arthur’s hunger when Merlin did magic accidentally. Merlin didn’t understand many of Arthur’s reactions, and he was not always happy or amused by them, but this time Merlin thanked his lucky stars and blindly massaged the thoughts out of Arthur’s head.

Many investors, sponsors, distributors and suppliers had accommodated their business simply because Arthur was listed as the co-owner in e-mail signatures and on business cards. This had been easy to spot at the beginning, with their first store (may it rest in financial pieces), but as Merlin and Arthur had refused brand after brand, supplier after supplier, they started getting smarter and more subtle.

Now, thanks to Merlin’s efforts (and all-nighters), their current store looked relatively fine from the outside. Merlin had truly believed that Sailor’s offer to supply them with their products had been caused by the store’s (apparent) impressive performance.

But the store’s sales had been impressive only in comparison to their previous failures. Merlin had to admit that nothing justified retail permission from none other than Sailor. It was notorious in the world of fine stationery products, the world that their current business dealt with, that Sailor had very high standards for their authorized retailers. They didn’t even supply the Goulets anymore, but they had chosen Arthur’s shop. That should have been proof enough that Arthur had been right.

Silently thanking magic that Arthur was no mind-reader, Merlin pressed the heel of his palm into Arthur’s shoulder until he heard a moan. Satisfied with his work, he retracted his hand and sluggishly turned around in the chilly covers, promptly earning a groaning protest from the young prince.

“Spoiled brat,” Merlin mumbled, trying to keep the fondness out of his tone. He cast a spell on their linens to turn them warmer, but his magic decided to show off again (a common occurrence when Arthur’s well-being was involved), and the light linens promptly flung themselves over the cabinet, while a set of thick ones and a blanket covered them both, emanating the slightly musty smell of something that had been in an old, wooden cabinet for more than half a year.

Merlin, who had paused his motions when he realized (too late) what his magic was doing without his permission, ventured to open his eyes. In the darkness of the early night, the night-light in the hallway cast a yellowish glow that complimented Arthur’s golden locks, but also revealed his stupidly blue eyes, crinkled in a smug expression, semi-hidden by the freshly-laid blanket.

“Prat.” Merlin dismissed the sympathetic thoughts that he had wanted to share with Arthur moments before.

Too embarrassed to keep his position, he moved to turn his back to Arthur again, but calloused hands clutched his arms, and with a firm tug, Merlin found himself in a very familiar position: being man-handled right into Arthur’s still-sweaty chest with little intention to fight his way out of it.

“I’m sorry.”

“Bloody hell, Merlin, don’t apologize.” Arthur squeezed his head almost painfully for a second, then let his hold loosen.

“You know I detest it when you apologize for this stuff. I’m used to it.”

Merlin frowned at Arthur’s matter-of-fact tone but decided not to comment on it. Arthur was right after all. The people who didn’t know that Arthur was a good person at heart, lavished over him only because of his name. It had been that way since Arthur was born, and Merlin could do nothing about it.

“In the last days of our last business venture, you yelled and ranted about how unfair your life is.” Merlin breathed in the silence for a few seconds, as Arthur’s mind worked to bring the memory to the surface. At  the end of the pause, to Merlin’s surprise, Arthur burst in laughter.

Laughter was so far from Merlin’s expected reactions that he pushed himself away from Arthur to inspect his expression. Arthur’s laughter didn’t seem to be caused by mockery though, and Merlin settled to quietly appreciate Arthur’s features lit up in mirth until the young prince hid his face in his pillow to regain his breath.

Once he had done that, Arthur surprised him again with his words:

“Merlin, you are an oblivious bastard when you want to be.”

Before Merlin could protest, Arthur continued.

“As if I would bitch about a bloody business that’s doomed to fail because you insist on putting my name as the co-owner.”

For all that Arthur spoke English, Merlin had a hard time in understanding what he had just heard.

“But– but… You– ” he spluttered for a moment, until Arthur raised his eyebrow in an expression that conveyed ‘ _in your own time, Merlin,_ ’ complete with royal prattiness.

“You had to beg your father for months to postpone your duties so you could get reacquainted with the lives of ordinary people. Have a job, manage a business, learn responsibility– ”

“Because I’m a reckless brat unfit for governing a country.”

“I– What? You said that about yourself! Don’t look at me like that!” he added, since Arthur was staring at him as if Merlin had disappointed him. When Arthur groaned in frustration, Merlin just about had it.

“You insufferable prat!” exclaimed Merlin, pushing himself up so that he was kneeling on the bed. “One year ago you said you needed time off from your royal duties to gain perspective, to learn responsibility, and now you’re telling me you don’t even care about this store. What am I supposed to make of any of that, you bloody idiot?”

Arthur, who was growing more frustrated by the second, shifted belly-up on the mattress and hid his face behind his palm, sighing a deep, frustrated-sounding breath.

Merlin started to worry when Arthur’s temper-tantrum didn’t come. Arthur had actually stopped the childish behavior after graduation, when his training in the army became a full-time occupation, and Luther started discussing Arthur’s role as the crown prince more seriously. Sometimes Arthur’s temper did burst though, and it amused and irritated Merlin in equal measure. This time, however, was different.

“Arthur…” murmured Merlin, staring down at his best friend, his secret lover, his (future) king. “Arthur, if you doubt your father’s trust in you– ”

“It’s not that. Damn you, Merlin!”

Merlin’s relief at hearing Arthur’s energy back in his voice quickly dimmed when Arthur sat on the edge of the bed and started putting on his pants with shaky hands.

He swallowed the bitter knowledge that he was causing Arthur’s turmoil and shifted forward until he could touch Arthur’s shoulder. He couldn’t think of an incantation that could soothe Arthur’s inner struggle, but he let his magic flow through his touch like a timid wave, trying to reassure Arthur of something that he didn’t even understand.

Thankfully, Merlin’s magic wasn’t fussy about the details of the situation. It always grasped Merlin’s feelings and instincts better than his rational mind.

After a few moments, he felt Arthur’s muscles relax under his palm.

“Arthur, please. Talk to me.”

But Arthur sprung to his feet as if he had been slapped. his shoulders pulling so tight so quickly that Merlin wondered if it hurt.

As Merlin scrambled to come up with something to fix the awful situation, Arthur spoke.

“‘ _I will always stand by you._ ’ You said that, when were kids.”

For a moment, Merlin was back on a damp, rocky seashore, struggling to hear Arthur over the calls of the seagulls and the waves, wondering whether he could let Arthur know that sometimes he could control the weather, and that if Arthur wanted, he could make the heavy, black clouds overhead go away. They could stay there longer, and avoid going back to their geometry and astral magic homework, if Arthur so asked.

_I don’t want you to go,_ whispered Arthur, staring at the sea.

_Silly,_ Merlin had replied, _I will always stand by you._ He had spoken to the sand and the sea, and the roaring clouds, all of England sighing in relief underneath his feet as he uttered the words.

“Do you remember, Merlin?”

“I do.”  _How can I forget the moment when–_

“What happened then? A change of mind?”

A weight plummeted in Merlin’s stomach as he took in Arthur’s detached, calculating tone. That was the tone Arthur had learned in the military, in drills with risks too real for Merlin’s liking. Merlin loathed and admired the steady resolution behind that tone in equal measure.

“I don’t know what– ”

“You don’t know what I’m talking about, sure. When you told my father that Morgause was to be my new personal magical bodyguard, what was that, then? Did you know what you were talking about then?”

By the last question, Arthur was shouting again. His chest heaved with rhythmic deep breaths, his eyes were alight with anger. Merlin felt nauseous and cold in the big bed full of fresh linens that his stupid, smitten magic had provided.

He pooled the blanket around his skinny hips, thinking about Arthur’s words. Arthur didn’t know how agonizing the past few years had been. The increasing magical attempts made against his life in college. He didn’t know how overpowered Merlin felt by the fact that those attacks were only the beginning. There were plenty of magical dissidents out there who were waiting for Arthur to start his diplomatic travels around the world, with only a few magical bodyguards to protect him.

Merlin had tried to resign from his position as Arthur’s personal magical bodyguard and counsellor (Uther had scoffed and turned his resignation into a temporary training retreat), because Merlin thought that he could not see the world by Arthur’s side, listening to Arthur present himself and his own entourage, instead of simply being part of Uther’s entourage. Merlin imagined Arthur’s expression and voice as he called the names of his _own_ personal advisors and bodyguards, magical and not, to foreign prime ministers, to presidents, and to foreign kings and queens. He felt a deep, unwavering pride and adoration for his friend, just by imagining such situations. Merlin was sure that he would not simultaneously be able to detach himself enough to gauge every single potential threat to Arthur’s life. Kilgharrah’s confidence in him was flattering, but Merlin knew he could not love someone and remain detached enough to be a good bodyguard.

Upon hearing Merlin’s thoughts about this issue, Gaius had unsubtly hinted at bonds that could do away with Merlin’s shortcomings, but all protection bonds required a modicum of emotional transfer to ensure a stable connection. For all that they tumbled in bed from time to time, Merlin didn’t know if Arthur wanted to be in any way bonded to him, and he was not ready to face the rejection yet.

Even if, in an alternate universe, Arthur was amenable to a protection bond, Merlin’s magic would not be able to keep his feelings hidden for long, and letting Arthur know that his childhood friend/personal mage/friend with benefits was in love with him would be a disaster. Arthur was the crown prince, and what with Morgana’s out and proud queerness, it was up to Arthur to make sure that the Pendragon name would survive the trial of time.

Neither Arthur nor Uther spoke about the woman in Arthur’s future in front of Merlin, and he was too chicken to ask Gaius or Kilgharrah, so he had tried to step away when he could. These two years that Uther had granted to Arthur to explore the world of everyday business management were just the last sip of fresh water before the desert for Merlin.

To the outside, this string of jobs served to show the people that Arthur was a kind leader, even too kind sometimes – selling items at a loss during sales, arbitrarily dispensing gifts to broke students, refusing shady sponsors – to be anything but a prince. Whereas it showed that Merlin, the one who tried to keep their businesses afloat to the very end, would be a good counsellor to the future monarch.

On the inside, Merlin was supposed to bask in Arthur’s company until he could, without revealing too much, while Arthur was supposed to take Merlin’s cues about micro-managing a business and caring for his occupation as if it were his kingdom-to-be. Or so Merlin thought.

Merlin had no idea that Arthur was so frustrated by his current predicament, but he didn’t blame himself for that. Arthur should have spoken up sooner. He always did whenever he thought that Merlin was doing something wrong. Arthur didn’t have the right to burst like that, without even explaining himself. Merlin was so done with the situation already.

“Arthur. Either you tell me why you called me oblivious and  a liar and explain yourself, or the next time you see me will be on your second your of diplomatic missions, in two years.”

Merlin would keep on checking on Arthur from the shadows, but Arthur didn’t need to know that.

It worked. Arthur visibly slumped on the edge of the bed, the fight draining out of him. He ruffled his hair with a frustrated groan before speaking.

“Father said that you wanted to resign as my official bodyguard and become a shadow one. Father has a couple of those, and he hasn’t seen any of them in more than a decade. Ten years, Merlin. What the hell was I supposed to do? I asked my father to refuse your request, give you only a temporary training permission, but then he started saying that it was time for my first diplomatic world tour. I didn’t want to go without you, but I needed more time to make you change your mind, so I took up this stupid ancient tradition suggesting that every crown prince or princess should mingle with ordinary people before reigning. I asked you to be the owner of whatever business you wished and here we are.”

By the end of this speech, Arthur’s breath was ragged, as if he was working himself up to a raging explosion again. Merlin was reeling. He was glad that he wasn’t the only one who had balked at the idea of parting ways for their duties, but there was one thing he didn’t understand.

“Why did you insist on my being the owner of all the businesses we’ve opened? Why not just keep me around as a manager or something?”

Arthur let out an exhausted sigh and turned his head around, pinning Merlin with a stare that conveyed just how much he was thoroughly done with Merlin.

“Honestly Merlin? Next you’re going to ask me why I asked you live with me since we signed our first opening.”

“That one’s easy. So we could have a tumble anytime we wanted and you could bully me into doing all the household chores with magic.”

Merlin immediately regret his words, as Arthur’s expression turned thunderous.

He muttered something about Merlin and bullying which was lost behind his hand as he covered his mouth, and the sudden pick-up of the wind outside, rustling the leaves and whistling along the crevices of nearby houses.

Arthur turned more fully towards Merlin, sitting on the bed, regarding Merlin with a devastated, disappointed look.

“Is that what you really think I had in mind, Merlin? Live together because of the sex? When I asked you the same thing in middle school and again in high school, do you think I had sex in mind then, too? You know what, don’t answer that.”

Merlin bit back a retort as Arthur messed his hair again.

“I was hoping you didn’t visit so often just for the sex, Merlin, but apparently I was wrong.”

“That–!” Merlin burst out without meaning to. He stared into Arthur’s eyes, trying to gauge if Arthur truly thought Merlin was capable of such cold-blooded utilitarianism. “You can’t mean that. Arthur, I… Please…” Arthur regarded him with a furrowed expression that revealed he had caught on to Merlin’s confusion.

“For Christ’s sake, Merlin. Either I think you capable of wanting to live with me only for my dick, or you think I’m capable of asking you to live with me for yours. Since you still blush every fucking time I blow you, I find the first unlikely, so it must be the second.”

Arthur’s voice dimmed towards the end of his musings. Merlin watched with a sense of foreboding as realization struck his best friend, dread morphing his face.

“You do believe that I’m only after the sex, do you?” whispered Arthur, as if the words had been pulled out of him with a pair of pliers. His entire body was taut with tension, and Merlin had to avert his gaze and swallow a couple of times before he could manage to speak.

“Plenty of monarchs had dalliances with their security personnel before settling down. So… I thought– ”

“You thought I was one of them,” finished Arthur, and this time when he messed his hair and sighed, he sounded on the verge of panic.

 “Dozens of kings and queens did it Arthur, dozens! Your great-grandmother, your grandfather, even your father before he met your mother!”

Arthur pulled a face at the idea of the king getting frisky with somebody other than his mother, or actually, getting frisky with anybody, that would have been comical to both if the situation wasn’t desperately serious.

“And since I am my father or one of my ancestors, I must do as they did! Fuck being my own person, right, Merlin?”

Irritation mixed with desperation in Merlin, and he struggled to keep his magic from making something explode, although all the drawers in the room rattled horribly for a few seconds.

“I didn’t say that. But  we were both lonely, out of school and single, and you never hinted at anything else. The history of your family suggested that it was normal, to be expected even, without mentioning how you’re supposed to marry the princess of Sweden and have many little– ”

“Woah, what the hell Merlin? The princess of Sweden?” interrupted Arthur with a shocked, befuddled look.

“Ugh.” Merlin dismissed this with a vague gesture. “Or the princess of Spain or what-have-you. A princess!”

“And what the hell am I supposed to do with a princess?”

“I told you, have– ”

“It was a rhetorical question, you absolute idiot! I can’t believe you right now. Did your brains leak out of those ridiculous ears? In case all the gay sex escaped you, Merlin, I’m queer!”

“But since you swing both ways, you can still settle down, marry a princess, and raise the new generation of Pendragons!” Merlin almost shouted. He was getting flooded by mental images of a future in which he had no part of, and he was starting feeling sick as a consequence.

Suddenly, his vision was full of Arthur’s light-haired chest as the prince scooted forward and firmly grasped his knee, before reconsidering and holding Merlin’s hand lightly.

Arthur’s hand was warm, he always run hotter than Merlin – pun intended, the lucky bastard – and when Merlin remembered where that hand had been a mere 30 minutes or so before, he shuddered and tried to conceal it by looking down at his ridiculously skinny torso.

“I overheard your father talking to Gaius.” Arthur’s hand clutched his for an instant, making Merlin think that it had been an involuntary reaction to tension. But he had started talking now and he bit back the tears and took a gulp of air.

“He said that you were being impossible, that you needed to get smart, settle down as soon as possible, and– are you laughing or crying?” he blurted out as he raised his gaze. Arthur was fighting the shaking of laughter, but with tears in his eyes.

Even if seeing Arthur’s smile again was a relief, Merlin was ready to hurl all sorts of expletives at him. Here was Merlin making a heart-felt confession, and Arthur was about laugh in his face. His reaction was absurd, and sudden, and didn’t make a lick of sense to Merlin. He was about to say as much, when he was suddenly kissed thoroughly and enthusiastically.

They both emerged short of breath. There had been something in that kiss that sparked Merlin’s accidental magic, and he took a few moments to stop the objects in the room from rattling so loudly. When he was sure he succeeded, he noticed the noise outside.

“It’s raining,” he blurted out again. This time Arthur didn’t have the time to squash his laughter and barked out a short, louder laugh that Merlin felt kind of proud for. It was the kind of laughter that was ripped from a person all of a sudden, unabashed and unrestrained. Merlin couldn’t help but smile and mentally fist-bumped to the small victory.

“Yeah, it’s raining. Stay here, I’ll be back in a minute.” And without waiting for Merlin’s acknowledgement, Arthur slid out of bed and walked out of the room.

 

.

.

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# ACT THREE – in the bathroom

 

Merlin sat there for a few seconds before burrowing under the fresh linens, but he felt too restless to remain in bed and soon decided to head over to the adjacent bathroom to relive himself and freshen up. When he saw his toothbrush, cologne and towels beside Arthur’s, he thought about how, during rainy evenings like thus, Arthur had always asked him to stay. Merlin would always answer that he would be gone once the rain let up a bit, and Arthur would retort that it wasn’t like he was going to kick Merlin out at the first chance since he already put up with Merlin’s ridiculousness fairly well, at which point some argument about Arthur’s non-existent modesty would start.

Merlin didn’t want to think about episodes like that. Arthur didn’t want anything more than friendship and companionship, and the occasional tumble. Merlin had overheard Uther himself–

“Merlin?” Arthur was back in the bedroom. A surge of panic swept Merlin, and before he knew what was happening, he was naked in the shower, with the water running so loudly that it overcome the sound of the rain outside.

Merlin mentally berated his stupid magic for running on his instincts rather than on his reasoning, as usual. He wanted an extra minute to compose himself, yes, but he didn’t want to escape from what Arthur was about to tell him. He was sick and tired of being in love and thinking that he didn’t stand a chance to Arthur’s future wi–

“Honestly, boy.” Uther’s raucous voice erupted so unexpectedly from thin air that Merlin jumped in surprise and swore under his breath. He was listening to Uther’s recorded voice, judging by the background static, from the shower of Arthur’s dark bathroom during a rainfall, after one of the most heart-felt conversations that he had ever shared with the love of his life. Merlin contemplated the oddity of the situation as Uther sighed in exasperation, a more exaggerated version of Arthur’s same sigh.

“You need to settle down, son.” Merlin’s heartbeat skyrocketed as he realized what Arthur was doing.  “Pull your head out of your ass, and be the brave warrior you are rumored to be. See it from Merlin’s perspective. You’re his prince, as much as he treats you like any ordinary friend, that puts considerable distance between you. He’s probably concocting some ancient tradition that you are beholden to that requires you to keep your distance from him. He’s a love-sick puppy, son, we can all see it. So for God’s sake, just go to him, confess and propose and all that fanfare, because as much as I love you, son, if I hear you complaining about Merlin’s dismissals one more time I’m going to revoke the bill for a magical Crown Prince’s Consort.”

At these words, Merlin pushed the door of the shower wide open. The message ended in that moment, and Merlin had to squint in the darkness to make out Arthur’s expression. Clad in boxers and a t-shirt, Arthur stood in front of Merlin, his eyes on the phone, thumbing at something on the screen.

Before Merlin could claim Arthur’s attention, Uther’s voice erupted again from the phone’s speaker, and Arthur’s eyes met his as his father inhaled at the beginning of the message.

“I apologize, son. It’s been a horrendous day so far and I have no right of throwing such words around when I know how much that bill means to you. Don’t worry, it’s still here and not going anywhere. I’ll file it when the time comes. If that happens to be later rather than sooner, then I will wait, we all will, as you’re doing for Merlin.”

As the recording ended, Arthur must have seen something in Merlin’s expression that turned his mask of steel calm into fond exasperation, a look Merlin was intimately acquainted with.

“Oh, Merlin,” whispered Arthur over the sound of the rain and suddenly, Merlin’s skin became too hot all over.

“Shut up. You have no idea… For so many years– ” Merlin despaired of his ability to finish that sentence, but thankfully he didn’t have to. Arthur stepped forward and smashed their mouths together. It was brazen, hot-headed, and a bit arrogant, just like Arthur, and it was Merlin’s right to take that and any of Arthur’s other future kisses, apparently.

Merlin smiled at the realization, too giddy to stop it, and Arthur laughed, that dorky laughter of his that contrasted so much with his warrior exterior, but which was so incredibly endearing because of that contrast. Merlin’s chest shook in time with that laughter, as they were plastered close together with few to no clothes between them.

“Your magic is ridiculous, Merlin.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Merlin replied, still dazed and wondering when they could go back at kissing.

“You’ve been stopping the water in the pipeline since my father’s second voicemail,” mumbled Arthur amid his on-going snickering. Merlin turned around, and not only had the water stopped working, even if the water knob was still turned, but they were surrounded by drops of water of all sizes, hanging in the air around them, in the enclosure of the shower stall.

Stupid, ridiculous magic, Merlin thought.

“Bloody ridiculous,” he muttered out loud, just to be sure his magic heard, causing Arthur to burst into another round of laughter.

.

.

.

# EPILOGUE – in bed

 

“Merlin Emrys, Crown Prince’s Consort,” mumbled Arthur over Merlin’s shoulder. With the way Arthur had pressed his face into Merlin’s collarbone, Merlin was surprised that he managed to hear that much. Maybe this was like the times when Arthur would say his name before he fell asleep during rainy nights, whispered so lowly, as if he didn’t even mean to say it out loud at all, a secret between Arthur’s unconscious, Merlin, and the silent night.

Merlin was halfway to asleep himself when he heard the words, quiet but clear, as if Arthur had whispered them directly into his ear.

“You might want to rephrase that, your Royal Prattiness.” Merlin felt Arthur tense for a second, the other man’s toes twitching where they rested on Merlin’s ankles. Then, he was being pushed off far enough to lock eyes with Arthur, who looked a bit panicked all of a sudden.

“Merlin Emrys: I, Arthur Pendragon, heir apparent of the United Kingdom and Northern Ireland, Prince of Wales, hereby ask you to be my consort,” Arthur said in one, rushed breath, his voice hitching at the end of the sentence. Merlin’s chest squeezed in sympathy as he gazed into those panicked eyes in the semi-darkness, but he find the resolve within him to push himself away enough.

“Mh. Better. You still want to rephrase that a bit though, Arthur,” he whispered. He squeezed Arthur’s arm before caressing the tight muscles there, trying to coax Arthur into relaxing and thinking.

_I’m sorry I thought you only wanted me here with you for sex. I’m sorry I was too scared of being abandoned to speak up. Thank you for remembering my promise when we were kids. Thank you for being a good person, a good king, even though your business managing decisions are absolute shite. I love you._

Arthur returned his touch, then tentatively pulled him into a bone-squeezing hug. Merlin revelled in it contentedly, sighing in relief. All would be well. Arthur scooted back and Merlin did the same until they could look at each other again. Merlin brushed Arthur’s ridiculous fair hair out his eyes, but Arthur didn’t relinquish his hand right away. He half-smashed it, half-kissed it into the pillow, his hot breath tickling Merlin’s palm.

“It’s not raining anymore.” Merlin needed a moment to process the sentence. He pulled his attention away from Arthur to tilt his head this way and that, freeing his head from the nest of blankets. Outside, only the faint rumble of thunder could be heard.

“Even though it’s not raining anymore…” whispered Arthur against Merlin’s wrist. “Stay?”

“Yes.”

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End file.
